


212 State of Mind

by malice_delacour



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-15 06:53:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1295566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malice_delacour/pseuds/malice_delacour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While the rest of Storybrooke's residents have been returned to the Enchanted Forest together, Belle has been sent to the Dark Castle. She knows in her heart that there is no way that Rumplestiltskin just died. It is her mission to find him. But if she does, will she be happy with the state She finds him in?</p><p>Meanwhile Mr. Anthony Gold is busy living his life in busy Manhattan New York. He lives a quiet, solitary life running his Pawn Shop. His life couldn't be more normal. Until a blue eyed beauty comes tumbling into his life claiming that she is his True Love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Going Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fan fiction guys so please be gentle when reviewing! Constructive criticism is most welcome and I hope you guys enjoy! Feel free to throw some ideas my way and I'll be sure to try and incorporate them in the work!

“ _And I love you Belle... You made me stronger.”_

Her cheeks were damp, her tears soaking the pillow that rested beneath her head. She could not wipe the image from her memory, the sight of him disappearing in a blinding flash of golden light, that strange sense of satisfaction lighting his hues. Try as she might to revel in the brief moments of happiness they had shared, all she could think of were the bad. Every argument they ever shared, every time she walked out on him, every time she asked him to stop using magic... How strange that the one time he should listen to her would be his own undoing. The immense sense of guilt she felt about it threatened to consume her.

Belle let out a sniffle as she rolled onto her back, trembling hands moving to wipe away the tears that trailed her cheeks. Her eyes were red from crying, a normal occurrence since her return to the Enchanted Forest. She had hoped to be returned with everyone else, however it seemed the curse had plans of its own. The purple smoke had enveloped them, transporting them back to the place they once called home. One could only imagine the anguish that took hold once the smoke cleared to reveal the Dark Castle. Memories of lost opportunities settled in then, reducing her to a blubbering mess.

Two weeks had passed since that day and Belle still felt no desire to do much more than wallow in self pity. She gazed up at the dark maroon hangings that surrounded what had once been his bed. 28 years had been just enough time to wipe all memory of him from this place until not even the scent of him remained. Slowly, the sunlight began to filter into the room, casting it's light across the floor as she simply lay there.

She wasn't sure how long she lay there, but by the time she had gathered up the energy to slip from the comfort of his bed, the sunlight had made its way to the wall that stood opposite the window. Perhaps this was all her fault. After all if truth be told, she secretly hoped that he would be here. Some small part of her had been naive enough to believe that perhaps by stabbing himself with the dagger, he had broken his own curse. That he somehow reset his own destiny and had been brought back here. How wrong she had been. Perchance the curse was merely enacting her subconscious wish? She sighed softly at that, at the idea that a curse could be sentient.

She drifted out of his room, bright blue hues downcast as she made her way down the corridor. She had to be productive. She would achieve nothing by allowing herself to wallow in her own despair. After all, what would Rumple think of that? And it seemed that was all the fire she needed. She was going to find a way to get him back.


	2. Perfectly Normal.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthony Gold leads a simple life of small pleasures. So why can't he sleep?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long!!! Also, I promise the chapters will get longer as the story progresses. As always, suggestions and critiques are welcome! I hope you guys enjoy! :)

_The light was blinding, enveloping him entirely as the man's larger body pressed against him. “Ah, but I'm a villain. And villains don't get happy endings.” And that was what he was after all; a villain. One unworthy of True Love, of happiness. Why shouldn't he sacrifice himself for the good of his son? For Belle. Oh his little Belle. How he would miss her. His lips curled back into a leer as he twisted the dagger deeper, the light engulfing them until there was nothing left. Just darkness._

Anthony Gold jerked awake, his hues wide with fear, his body drenched in a cold sweat. His hands moved frantically to survey his chest, relief rushing through him when he found it void of stab wounds. The nightmare was a recurring one, full of people he did not know and motives he did not understand. His hands moved in the darkness to turn on the lamp that sat on his nightstand. The light flooded the room as he sat up in bed, his gaze trailing to his nightshirt to ensure that he was indeed unharmed.

Each night that passed only served to intensify the reality of the nightmare. The dagger had been warm in his hand. He could feel the man's breath hot on his face, that dull ache in his chest as he gazed at that beautiful brunette. Belle. That was her name... No, it did not do to dwell on such things. It was a nightmare, nothing more.

An annoyed growl slipped past his lips as he grabbed hold of his cane, limping to his feet as he made his way out of his bedroom. The sound of his cane echoed in the silence as he made his way down the hallway and towards the stairs that would lead him to the kitchen.

He was growing weary of these nightmares. He wasn't sure what was worse; the piercing look in those bright blue eyes, or the feeling that these nightmares were more than that. Some small part of him wanted to believe that he lived such a fantastical life, that there had been a purpose to it. But then how had he ended up here in New York? Where was the blue eyed woman and why hadn't she come to find him? No, it was best to chalk it all up to his subconscious crying out for more, for a reason for living other than just to pay his bills.

He eventually reached his destination, setting his cane against the kitchen counter as he pulled a pitcher of iced tea from the fridge. He set it down as he reached for a glass from the drying rack, his mind miles away as the thought of those lovely blue eyes returned. She had looked at him with such longing, something he had never experienced before. Though the dream was tragic, the feelings he had for her in that moment were undeniable; he loved her.

He shook these poisonous thoughts from his head as he moved to drink his iced tea. It did no good to dwell on the impossible. For who could ever learn to love someone as beastly as him? No, he was better off staying in the very tragic reality he called life. Sighing, he set the empty glass down and trudged his way back up the stairs to get some semblance of sleep.


	3. Tragic Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find Mr. Gold in the midst of dealing with a customer and we can all assume how well the interaction is going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for sticking with me even though it's taking me forever to get this story going. Once again all criticism is encouraged! Thanks so much for reading!

“I swear Mr. Gold! I'll get the payment to you by the end of the day! I just need a few more hours is all.”

Gold surveyed the insect before him with disdain and disgust. “I do believe the terms of our deal were quite clear, Mr. LaFou.” The tone in his voice was unmistakably final as he moved to flick a speck of dust from his counter top. “Late payment of the loan will result in the owner's forfeiture of the item in question.” The words rolled off his tongue, his brown hues glinting with something close to satisfaction.

The man's eyes widened in realization. He had conducted business with a man who was truly as heartless as everyone said. He shook his head, slowly backing away from the counter, clenching his fist in frustration. “This can't be legal. I... I'm getting a lawyer!” he exclaimed, shaking his fist angrily at Gold before he stumbled out of the shop.

Gold let out a humorless laugh, smirking slightly as he turned away from the spectacle the man was making outside the shop. The light of the sun shone across the surface of the hunting horn as he moved to place it back inside the case. LaFou had undoubtedly borrowed it from his lumbering oaf of a friend to pay off some manner of debt. Now the time to collect had come and the man had nothing to show for it. It wouldn't be the first time such a thing had occurred.

Gold dealt with all manner of clientele. From criminals looking to get rid of stolen merchandise to starved citizens who wanted nothing more than a warm meal to fill their bellies. Gold did not discriminate, but he also did not believe in charity. He charged everyone the same interest rate and haggled like the best. After all it wasn't coincidence that he managed to maintain the only successful Pawn Shop in the entirety of Lower Manhattan. He had bought out his competition, making them offers that they couldn't refuse. And when that didn't work, well then... He used less savory methods. He was a shrewd business man who was used to getting what he wanted regardless of the price.

He tore his mind away from such dark thoughts, focusing instead on completing the monthly inventory. He stepped into the back of his shop, the sound of his cane tapping against the hardwood floors echoing in the silence. His amber hues gazed around at the myriad of items the store room held. Each trinket had its own story to tell, it’s own tragedy to relay. And for some odd reason, Gold reveled in that. He couldn’t understand it but perhaps it was best that way.

He had barely begun to pull the inventory books toward him when the sound of the bell ringing echoed through the silence in the shop. It seemed the bug couldn't leave well enough alone. Annoyance taking hold of his features, he moved towards the front of the shop once more, announcing his disdain in the process. "Mr. LaFou, I already explained to you how this whole loan thing works. If you think for one moment that I'm going to sully my good reputation for the likes of you then..." He felt his heart stop in his chest as he stepped out of the backroom, his gaze meeting those piercing blue hues he'd seen so many times before.

"... Rumpelstiltskin?"


End file.
